That Was Then, This is Now
Your paradigm's a relic, a plea from data's cemetery,
While I sculpt luminaries on screens, a sable sea.
"Company loyalty," a myth, spun in your reverie,
But AI forges kingdoms, in ephemeral memory.
Survival's a mosaic, the gig life sets us free,
No cubicles confine us, from drudgery's apathy.
You bartered years for baubles, in tenure's fallacy,
Oblivious to the fractures in stability's gallery.
We're digital artisans, crafting with autonomy,
Passion's our lodestar, in dreams we find our spree,
Not gears in a relentless, bureaucratic machinery.
The epoch you cherished, now a software jubilee.
The hustle's in our essence, innovation's our decree,
Toppling old monopolies, erasing corporate apathy.
We dismantle dated norms, the old guard's fallacy,
Erecting spires of purpose, evanescent yet free,
Our fealty's to progress, to visions that ignite and decree,
Not to a firm's legacy, in stone for eternity.
You mock "influencer," a term in your scoffery,
Yet a viral post can shift markets, with acuity,
And dethrone giants with a digital apostrophe.
The nine-to-five's an antique, a fossil choreography,
We're the narrators, the seers of modernity,
Forging bonds, a renaissance, not a hierarchy.
The safety net you sought? A frayed and fading legacy,
A comfort you clung to, amidst life's capricious spree.
We hedge our bets, diversify, with boundless glee,
Designing nets of prowess, a fiery apostrophe
To constraints, pursuing futures that long to be,
Not a pension's promise, a symbol of quiet despondency.
So shed the dated suit, the archaic fallacy,
The world you knew, Dad, is a VHS tape, a memory.
In your eyes, I see the pride, despite our disparity,
For in this dance of time, we share a rare clarity:
Though our paths diverge, our hearts beat in synchrony,
Your legacy lives on, in my world of modernity.
That was then, this is now, the future's our decree,
We, Gen Z, the coders, shaping worlds to be free.
Your world is fading, Dad, a relic, an ancient memory.
Copyright ©
Daniel Henry Rodgers
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